


Soft and Slow

by glorious_clio



Category: Star Wars
Genre: F/M, Fluff, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 18:42:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6482674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_clio/pseuds/glorious_clio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Han comes home to find Leia already in bed.  It's not exactly what you think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft and Slow

Han opened the door to find the apartment dark, all the shades down.  He frowned into the gloom.  He thought the shades were open during the day, set on a timer.  Odd. It was such a small thing, but after years of heightened senses and living by his wits, he drew his gun and carefully stepped in, only to trip over a pair of boots that weren’t there when he left this morning.  

White boots. Practical boots.

He glanced at the floor; there was a trail of familiar clothes leading through to the bedroom.  His interest piqued, Han followed it.  

The bedroom was also dark. Leia was sprawled across the bed, her eyes covered with a damp washcloth.  Her long, long hair was spread out underneath it, thick and brown like a beautiful blanket. Not in the elaborate hairstyles she favored. Han could see earplugs in her ear.  She was breathing shallowly, so Han knew she wasn’t sleeping, but she still jumped when he knelt on the bed.  

“Leia?” he asked quietly, hoping she could hear him.

“Stress headache,” she whispered.  “Don’t yell.”  

Even stranger. Usually Leia did not stop for headaches. Or anything. Blaster wounds couldn’t ordinarily slow her down. Han noted the bottle of pain meds and the glass of water on the bedside table.  He got up and refilled her water before crawling into bed next to her.  

Han remained passive as she rolled over onto her side and fit her back to his chest.  As he bent his knees to complete the spooning, Han felt Leia relax. She peeled off the washcloth and tossed it away from her. He wished he could use the Force, sometimes. Usually, she can use the Force to guide herself through pain and to the other side, had been doing it since she was a small child, apparently, though she didn’t know it until recently. She once confessed to him that it’s how she got through too many torture chambers. Leia can even use the Force to draw pain out of others. If this headache couldn’t be battled through, it must be strong enough to kill someone.  

Or maybe she just wanted out of her meetings. Also out of character. Han didn’t ask.  

They stayed curled up for a little while, but before long, Han gently began massaging what he could reach of her shoulders and back, pushing hair out of his way as he went. Leia let out a long breath and shifted so he would have better access. She took out the earplugs.  

‘Hungry?” he whispered, kissing her shoulder.  

“No,” she murmured back.  

“You should eat something,” he insisted gently.  

She shrugged.  

“What happened today?” Han answered.  

“Oh, everything. I felt like I was putting out fires all over the place,” she said.  It seemed like she was decompressing, yet Han’s fingers did not stop in their quest to undo all the knots in her back and neck.  

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Did anything go _right_ today?” he asked, changing the subject.  

“Well... the delegation from Tatooine arrived. Talks with the Hutts begin tomorrow. I’m not working with them personally, but I’m kept in the loop.”

Han’s thoughts flashed to Jabba. “Yeah, they’re probably not ready to negotiate the end of slavery with you.”

She elbowed him.  “Luke’s there, though.  Apparently his grandmother, _our_ grandmother, and our father, were both born into slavery on Tatooine.  Luke will be good to have in negotiations, since he’s also fluent in Huttese.”

“Imagine that, being born into slavery.” His fingers brushed over the belly where their child was growing.  

She _hmmed_. “Making the galaxy free of slavery is better for all of our children, not just the ones born on Tatooine.”

He chuckled at her quick soundbyte. “Head’s better?”

“Yeah,” she sighed again.  “You said something about dinner?”  

“Let’s order in,” Han suggested.  

They ended up getting fancy Ichiumian salads; Leia wasn’t sure if she could tolerate anything greasy or heavy, and ruica leaves were good for the baby. Morning sickness was misnamed, and lately, the greasy meals that Han favored now came back to haunt her.

He forgot to order hers without olives, so spent the entire meal flicking them at him.  

“A fine example you’re setting for our child,” Han said mildly, dodging the flying pimentos.  

“Eh.  Luke will be far more exemplary, I’m sure,” Leia replied, unconcerned. But she laughed at the thought.

It was nice to hear it.  

Still, it was a soft sort of night.  No holos or datapads, no loud noises or sudden movements.  Leia took a warm bath to sooth the remaining roots and tendrils of her headache away. Han made her a giant mug of hot chocolate.  He was such a softie these days. It probably had something to do with the coming baby. An earlier version of Han Solo would have been appalled at himself.  He was practically nesting.  

He made her go to bed early, and of course, when he crawled in after her, she curled up next to him. Brushing the back of his neck with her fingertips, she whispered, “You know what’s good for headaches?”

He was chuckling as she kissed him.  

Neither of them moved very fast, they had time for a change.  This wasn’t a quickie squeezed in between two meetings, or the clumsy fumbling after a long day.  She was deliberate, he was gentle, and they both went slowly.  

The changes that her body was making to accommodate the growing kid had to be cataloged carefully by his lips. Her breasts were very tender, he knew, so he kissed them very softly before moving down to her stomach, and then her hips.  

He heard her breath hitch as he pulled down her knickers and went to work, drawing out the sensations. His reward was all the little noises that she was making.  Her hips were stuttering and bucking under his tongue and fingertips, but he continued with his relentlessly slow pace, taking his time to taste. In this way, he coaxed her through her a bone-shattering orgasm until she gently pulled him back up to her lips.  

“Too much,” she murmured.

“Sorry.”

“I’m not.  Give me a few minutes.”

“Okay,” he said, settling into kissing her, sharing her taste on his tongue.  

The sweat was cooling on her skin when she signaled that she was ready for more and Han, slowly, found his way into her.  She was all soft edges and sighs as he set a lazy rhythm, determined to prolong these moments with her. This kind of lovemaking was so rare, for them, for their life.  He was almost grateful to her earlier migraine. Dinner and an early night was so welcome.  

He met her eyes and she wrapped her legs around his hips, and whispered “please,” and that was all it took.  It felt like he had hit lightspeed in a landspeeder, and she soon followed, brushing her clit with her fingers.  

He was careful not to collapse on her, rolling away and pulling her into a loose embrace. She was all smiles as she pulled up the blankets and tucked herself into his chest.  

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re good at that?”

“Yeah, you, about two days ago.  You’re not so bad yourself, Princess.”

She kissed his chest and burrowed in, as if you could get closer than skin on skin contact.  He brushed her hair out a bit, knowing it’ll be a tangled mess in the morning, but he loved it when she wore it loose.  Hardly anyone got to see it that way, including him. It’s much more convenient for her to braid it for bed.  It seemed to punctuate the fact that tonight turned out to be special.  

“Thank you,” she said.  

“My pleasure.”

She half laughed, half sighed, and then she was fast asleep. Han followed soon after her.  


End file.
